And vowed that to leave them he was quite forlorn, Till Cynthia hinted he'd see them next morn. Six bottles apiece had well wore out the night, When gallant Sir Robert, to finish the fight, Turned o'er in one bumper a bottle of red, And swore 'twas the way that their ancestor did. Then worthy Glenriddel, so cautious and sage, No longer the warfare, ungodly, would wage; A high ruling-elder to wallow in wine!1 He left the foul business to folks less divine. The gallant Sir Robert fought hard to the end; But who can with fate and quart-bumpers contend? --- Though fate said a hero shall perish in light; So up rose bright Phoebus - and down fell the knight. Next up rose our bard, like a prophet in drink: "Craigdarroch, thou'lt soar when creation shall sink; 1 The elder of the Scottish church is called a ruling-elder when sent to represent a burgh in the General Assembly. Glenriddel represented the burgh of Dumfries in several suczessive assemblies. But if thou would flourish immortal in rhyme, Come one bottle more and have at the sublime! "Thy line, that have struggled for freedom with. Bruce, Shall heroes and patriots ever produce: TO MARY IN HEAVEN. The grave had closed over Mary Campbell, as far as our facts and arguments will allow us to assign a date, in the latter part of October, 1786. A day came at the end of harvest, in 1789,2 when the death of Mary three years before was recalled to the poet. Accord ing to Mr. Lockhart, reporting the statement of Mrs. Burns to her friend Mr. M'Diarmid, Burns "spent that day, though laboring under cold, in the usual work of 1 The whistle remained in the possession of the late Mr. R. C. Fergusson of Craigdarroch, M. P. for the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, son of the victor. 2 Mr. Lockhart assigns this incident to September, Chambers to October. The arguments for the latter date are giver n the Appendix to Chambers's third volume. the harvest, and apparently in excellent spirits. But as the twilight deepened, he appeared to grow very sad about something,' and at length wandered out into the barn-yard, to which his wife, in her anxiety, followed him, entreating him in vain to observe that frost had set in, and to return to the fireside. On being again and again requested to do so, he promised compliance; but still remained where he was, striding up and down slowly, and contemplating the sky, which was singularly clear and starry. At last Mrs. Burns found him stretched on a mass of straw, with his eyes fixed on a beautiful planet that shone like another moon,' and prevailed on him to come in. He immediately, on entering the house, called for his desk, and wrote exactly as they now stand, with all the ease of one copying from memory, these sublime and pathetic verses." THOU ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour can I forget, Can I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love! Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past, Thy image at our last embrace, Ah! little thought we 'twas our last! Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore, Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? TO DR. BLACKLOCK. Burns had written a letter about the late changes in his circumstances to his venerable friend Blacklock, and intrusted it to Robert Heron, a young scion of the church connected with the south-western district of Scotland, and who was now beginning to busy himself with literary speculations. Heron had proved a faithless messenger, and Blacklock had addressed Burns a rhyming letter of kind inquiries: to which Burns replied as follows. ELLISLAND, 21st Oct., 1789. merry Wow, but your letter made me vauntie! elated Lord send you aye as weel's I want ye, The ill-thief blaw the Heron south! devil I lippened to the chield in trouth, trusted And bade nae better. desired |